


Just Some Little Thing

by starchase



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Fluff, M/M, That's all that's here, cuteness, prompto has a ridiculous crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-16 05:05:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11246898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starchase/pseuds/starchase
Summary: He hadn't given the guy much of a thought before, the first time they met at Galdin Quay, because then he'd just been some old weirdo. But now...well, he's still old, and he's still a weirdo, but now he has a name. And Prompto's mind is wondering into 'oh shit' territory because he's able to get a proper look at Ardyn now, and. Well, he's really handsome.





	Just Some Little Thing

**Author's Note:**

> So this was written for a prompt on the ffxv kink meme, the prompt of which was: Prompto kisses Ardyn, and basically has a crush on him. So this is that. It's an entirely cute/silly fic, there's nothing dark or creepy or weird. I just really wanted to write a 'what if promdyn could be cute' fic. So let's all pretend this happens in a reality where Ardyn is Not So Big A Jerk. He's like, your weird relative, who says strange things but is also charming and enigmatic. Or something. Enjoy?

_Oh shit_ , Prompto thinks, the moment they see Ardyn again, really see him, at the overlook.  
  
He hadn't given the guy much of a thought before, the first time they met at Galdin Quay, because then he'd just been some old weirdo. But now...well, he's still old, and he's still a weirdo, but now he has a name, and information, and it's strange how he's offering to help. But man, with these headaches Noct keeps getting – and Prompto is worried – any kind of help is good, 'cause the rest of them, Ignis included, are stumped.  
  
But Prompto's mind is wondering into _oh shit_ territory because he's able to get a proper look at Ardyn now, and. Well, he's really handsome, Prompto thinks, really attractive, and sure, maybe he does have a bit of a thing for older men. Quite a bit _older_ older men, he amends, because Ardyn's definitely on the other side of forty from Prompto. He dresses like it too, as if he's been unaware of what fashion even is since 'the olden days', Prompto thinks. Although he's not sure that Hobo Chic was ever a fashionable look.  
  
Still.  
  
_Shit,_ he thinks again, because Ardyn catches his eye, and it's only by the hint of amusement on Ardyn's face, that Prompto realises he's been staring, that he's completely zoned out and just, standing there like a complete goober staring at this guy who's a stranger to them.  
  
Then, Ardyn's turning and starts leading them towards the car park, and Prompto follows behind, his mind in overdrive. He's aware that Ignis and Gladio are having some kind of discussion, somewhere behind him, but he can't hear them, and when Noctis catches up to him, Prompto can see how tense and on guard his best friend is. No one's keen on this situation, it seems. Prompto wonders if he's missing something.  
  
But then his eyes fall back on the figure walking in front of them, his hair almost burning red in the hot Lestallum sun, and his thoughts turn back to o _h, shit._ He knows what he's like, and he knows well. He falls easily, crushes hard, and he can feel the familiar stirring of what will become a strong, deep-seated attraction within him. Prompto won't be able to get Ardyn out of his mind.  
  
Ardyn's car (he called it an 'automobile' and Prompto couldn't help but laugh to himself, it's both ridiculous but also kinda endearing and wow he's in so much trouble already--) is at the end of the parking lot, the colour of it almost matching Ardyn's hair, Prompto thinks. Weird.  
  
What he says though, and it's genuine, is, “Hey, nice car! Vintage, right?” He's smiling, when he meets Ardyn's eyes.  
  
“Why thank you,” Ardyn says, as he turns to look over Prompto, eyes moving across him in such a way that Prompto wants to shiver, feeling like he's being appraised or something. His smile doesn't falter though. “That's a good eye you have. Why, it's almost as old as I am!” Ardyn laughs, as if he's just told a great joke, though Prompto doesn't quite get it. He is missing something.  
  
He laughs anyway, because there's something about that voice that he can't resist. “Nah, man, you're not that old.”  
  
Ardyn gives him a mock half-bow, a smirk playing on his lips. “You flatter me.”  
  
There's talk then, on taking two cars to the Disc of Cauthess, and Noctis steps back to talk something over with Ignis. Prompto isn't interested, really, and he doesn't need to be involved, so he takes a couple of steps closer to Ardyn. He opens his mouth, feels nervous suddenly. He's always been bad at trying to talk to people he finds attractive, and right now he's standing closer to Ardyn than he has so far. He's so fucking good looking up close, Prompto thinks to himself.  
  
“I, uh,” he starts, laughs a little awkwardly as he looks away. Tries again. “M-maybe I could, uh, get a picture later? Of your car? It's really cool!”  
  
“My dear boy,” Ardyn says, looking Prompto over again. “You may photograph whatever you like.”  
  
Suddenly, shit isn't a strong enough word.  
  
_Fuck._  
  
  
–

 

“Heh heh, yeah, what a creep, right?” Prompto laughs awkwardly, pretends to agree with Noct's words, even as he tries to keep his mind from wandering back towards the very subject of their conversation. It's weird; Ardyn's leading in front in his own car, gave Noctis specific instructions to stay close, but not too close, as they follow in the Regalia. Weirdly specific instructions, Prompto thinks. He remembers a word he's heard before, in movies, used to describe weirdo old dudes usually, and it fits Ardyn like a glove, he thinks. _Eccentric._ He can imagine that maybe Ardyn's just having them on, laughing at them, at some joke they don't quite get.  
  
Prompto forces his eyes away from the car in front of them, drops them to his lap and starts fiddling mindlessly with his phone instead. He needs to stop this, because it's ridiculous, and he knows he's ridiculous. It's usually hard to keep his thoughts focused on one thing, except when he's crushing on someone, and then he finds he can't think of anything else, and he always ends up feeling like a sad, pathetic loser for it.  
  
Ugh. Now he's made himself sad. He really is a loser sometimes.  
  
“So, uh, how's your head doing there, Noct?” Prompto asks, an attempt to get the subject – and his own thoughts – away from Ardyn.  
  
“Fine. Don't worry, I'm not gonna get us killed.”  
  
“Or break the car, like some other loser I know, right?” Prompto does his awkward laugh thing again, feels like he's failing with his self-deprecating humour when Noctis briefly shoots him a _look_.  
  
“What's with you? Are _you_ feeling okay?”  
  
Prompto sits up straighter in his chair, tries not to flush at having the tables turned on him.  
  
“Ha ha. Course! I'm all good, bud. Just curious about what's gonna happen, I guess. I mean, this is all kinda weird, isn't it?”  
  
“You're telling me,” Noctis mumbles, fingers tightening, briefly, around the steering wheel, before he adds, “We'll be fine. You'll see.”

“Yeah.” Prompto nods, turns his head to gaze out from his side of the car. “Yeah, you're right.”  
  
They're coming up to a gas station and rest stop, when Prompto realises the car is slowing down. Looking ahead, he sees that Ardyn has already pulled to a stop and parked his own car. It's not that late in the day, and Prompto wonders if maybe Ardyn forgot to fill his car or something before they left Lestallum. Ignis would never, he knows.

As it turns out, Ardyn thinks it's a good idea to stop here for the remainder of the day. Gladio ends up objecting – of course he does, he's been a little tense since they've had to join up with Ardyn – and Prompto's a little confused, because it's really not late, all in all. Though, he doesn't really like the idea of arriving at the Disc as the sun sets, and having to deal with daemons as well as possibly an Astral (he still can't quite stretch his mind around _that_ though). When he voices this idea, Ardyn looks at him approvingly; Prompto tries to ignore the way his heart flutters a little wildly in his chest, and the others agree to stopping where they are.  
  
Prompto and Ignis end up in the store, Noctis decides he wants a nap in the caravan, and Gladio leaves to talk with the people nearby, get the lay of the land, he says. To keep himself away from Ardyn, Prompto knows.  
  
It's as if thinking the name summons him, because when Prompto turns at the sound of the door tinkling open, it's to see Ardyn stepping into the store, easy as anything, demeanour relaxed, despite the unrest his presence seems to cause with the other guys. The unrest he stirs within Prompto is an entirely different beast, however, and he tries, vainly, to ignore it, as he wanders the store behind Ignis, looking at everything on the shelves, asking questions or pointing something out when he sees something interesting. All the while though, Prompto is sure he can feel Ardyn's presence, somewhere behind them.  
  
Ardyn's not following them, he's talking to the cashier – Prompto can hear, as Ardyn, in his weird, wordy way, makes a transaction – but it doesn't stop Prompto from just feeling as if he knows where Ardyn is in relation to him at all times.  
  
Crap. It usually takes a little longer than this for Prompto to really get going with a crush, but apparently this Crush On Ardyn train is already pulling out of the station early, set on route for Pathetic Prompto City and making good time, no stops, no delays.  
  
“So, you're a photographer, are you?”  
  
Ardyn's voice takes Prompto by surprise – well, it doesn't, but Prompto's reaction to his voice takes him by surprise, that is, the way the back of his neck warms pleasantly at the sound of it.  
  
Prompto had been dawdling over by the electronics, looking at the old, portable radios on the shelf, and wondering to himself how to take one apart, as Ignis began to seriously stock up on ingredients and supplies for them now. So Ardyn catches him now a little more on his own.  
  
He looks up, and shit, Ardyn's so tall? Prompto's used to most people being taller than him, but Ardyn feels more than just...tall. There's a definite presence around him, the one Prompto was feeling earlier, and this feels larger still than Ardyn's actual tall, broad frame appears to be. It makes Prompto feel smaller than he usually does. But...he also kind of likes it, he thinks, and tries to surreptitiously swallow the lump that's suddenly grown in his throat.  
  
“Uh?” He says, in his usual eloquent way. _What a dork_ , he chides himself a moment later. But Ardyn only smiles, a little indulgently, as Prompto pulls his mind back together. “Oh, oh! Well, not exactly,” he admits, his gaze falling to the floor as Ardyn simply stands there and watches him, filling what seems to be the entire store with his presence. “I just like taking pictures, it's not like I'm really all that good at it, or anything. It's, uh. Just for fun, y'know?”  
  
He risks a look back at Ardyn's face and, shit, he hasn't realised until now how close Ardyn seems to be standing to him, how he's kind of leaning in towards Prompto with seeming interest. He's not used to that, really. He looks really good up close like this, too, Prompto can't help but think, something in Ardyn's features just capturing his attention. Perhaps it's the almost sly smile that seems to continuously lurk around the edges of Ardyn's mouth, makes him look as if Ardyn has something up his sleeves – and his sleeves, Prompto thinks, are really pretty big, so he could have a lot of things up them.

Ardyn's voice pulls Prompto from his ever-increasingly weird thoughts, and back to the moment at hand. “I'm sure you do yourself little credit. I'd very much like to see some of these photos of yours later, if you wouldn't mind...?” He pauses then, looks at Prompto expectantly, and Prompto blinks back owlishly.  
  
Then it hits him, and he laughs nervously at his own stupidity. “Sorry, man! Didn't realise we hadn't shared introductions yet. I'm Prompto.”  
  
“Prompto.”  
  
He has to repress an actual shiver from sliding down his spine at the sound of his name in Ardyn's voice, because Ardyn says it as if he's savouring the very sound of it, and no one's ever done that to Prompto's _name_ before.  
  
It's just after that, before Prompto can really say anything more, that Ignis all but drags him from the store, requesting Prompto's help with getting things ready for supper. Prompto knows it's just an excuse, but it's probably for the best. There's a reason Prompto's crushes don't usually work out, and that's because he's an insufferable idiot when he tries talking to people.  
  
Still, there is the promise of a little more time and conversation with Ardyn later, so Prompto lets his mind wander to fairer places as he peels potatoes in the caravan's tiny kitchenette.

 

–

 

Prompto does get to show Ardyn some of his photos later that day, as the afternoon sky begins to bleed into dusk. Ardyn tells him he's good, that Prompto has an eye for fine things. He's not sure if Ardyn means it or if he's just being nice, but the compliments go straight to his fluttering chest all the same, as praise always does, whenever Prompto receives any. He finds he doesn't care if Ardyn's being sincere, as long as they can stay like this, chairs pulled close together, Ardyn leaning over to see Prompto's camera.  
  
_'He's probably just indulging me,'_ Prompto thinks to himself, as he shows Ardyn a picture he took at the chocobo post. But, Prompto figures, he's enough of a loser that he really doesn't care. It's nice, all the same, whatever the intent behind it.  
  
What isn't as nice, is the kind of awkward atmosphere that's descended on the rest of the group. Gladio's clearly put out by the entire thing, Noct keeps muttering “creepy” to himself every now and again, and Ignis has pulled on his almost painfully reserved face, and only speaks to Ardyn when necessary, any hint of warmth that the rest of them get to enjoy gone for the moment. The rest of them seem uneasy and unsettled at having Ardyn spending the entire day with them, and sharing a caravan with him to boot. It's very much a 'putting up with the situation' kind of feeling.  
  
Prompto doesn't get it, because sure, he's definitely a bit of a weirdo, but so far Ardyn's only ever been helpful and pleasant to them all. He's let Prompto babble on for what must be way too long by now, but still, every time Prompto braves a glance, beneath his lashes, at Ardyn's face, all he sees is a look of interest, as if Ardyn's really listening to him.  
  
_“You're far too trusting of everyone, honey,”_ he remembers his mother saying to him once, years ago, back in high school and not long after he'd first become friends with Noctis. He remembers how his mother had surprised him by actually being home that evening, after he'd had a humiliating day at school, and he hadn't been able to hide his upset from her. She'd pried it out of him, slowly and carefully, as mother's do, Prompto thought at the time, and he'd ended up telling her everything, sniffling sadly as he'd done so. Because he'd been taken in by someone who had pretended to be his friend just to try and get some gossip or get close to Noctis, or something else equally stupid, and when Prompto hadn't given him what he'd wanted, the whole thing had come out in the classroom one break, in front of everyone. Noct had been great about it, getting righteously angry on Prompto's behalf, but still, someone faking interest and attentiveness in Prompto and what he had to say had stuck with him.  
  
He looks up at Ardyn again, who's asking about something particular in the current photo on Prompto's camera, and he can't help but still think that Ardyn's nice. He's been kind to Prompto all day. He can count the number of times Ardyn has smiled at him by the number of times Prompto's heart has stuttered and almost failed that day.  
  
“Oh, the brilliance that shines in the face of youth.”  
  
Prompto blinks, eyes meeting Ardyn's briefly, before sliding away again; Ardyn's looking back at him, and it's a little too much. “Uh..um. What?” He asks, confused.  
  
Ardyn shrugs, leans back, only slightly, and Prompto pulls in a breath, the space around him already feeling emptier than he cares for.  
  
“Merely thinking out loud. Ramblings of an old man, I'm afraid. Feel free to ignore my whims as they come and go.”  
  
Prompto thinks that he doesn't want to ignore anything when it comes to Ardyn, though.  
  
Instead, he laughs, a warm, genuine sound. “Dude, you gotta stop saying you're old! You don't look old.” Also, though he won't say this, maybe not even admit it to himself really, but if Ardyn is _old_ then there's something wrong with Prompto for being so stupidly attracted to him and that would make Prompto feel weird. Old _er_ , because technically, Ardyn was. Not old.  
  
“Oh?” And now Ardyn leans back a little further, as if surveying Prompto, that teasing hint of a smile on his lips. Prompto gulps. “How do I look then, if I may ask?”  
  
_Shitfuckshitshitcrapshitfuck_. Prompto's brain shorts out, because he's walked right into that one. Ardyn's just sitting there, smug as anything, as he waits for Prompto to answer, and Prompto finds himself wishing that there was some tiny voice to tell him something cool or funny or sexy to say in reply, because all his brain can come up with right now is: _phhhhhhhppps._ A stuttering mess of nothing, essentially.  
  
But, Ardyn's definitely flirting with him right now, and Prompto desperately wishes he was any good at this kind of thing. But he's been caught off guard, and so there's no hope.  
  
“Good,” Prompto ends up all but squeaking out, feeling ridiculous. Ardyn's smile widens, though. Very cat that got the cream.  
  
Prompto stands up abruptly, in a sudden need to extricate himself from this embarrassing situation he's stumbled into. “I, uh. Ignis,” he says, as words fall nonsensically from his mouth, no coherency to string them together into making sense. “I'm j-just. Y'know. Um...” he gestures at the caravan behind him. “Yeah,” he finishes, before he turns, retreats into the caravan, and quickly barricades himself inside the tiny bathroom.  
  
His chest heaves as he tries to pull in a regular breath, tries to calm the pounding of his heart inside his chest. He's not sure where all this is coming from, and gods, if he doesn't feel like a stupid teenager all over again, just because Ardyn's quite blatantly paying attention to him, flirting with him. He splashes his flushed face with cold water, counts to ten, then twenty...then thirty, as he tries to breathe.  
  
When Prompto's in the middle of counting to forty, there's a hard knocking against the bathroom door, and Gladio's voice growling on the other side for him to _get the hell out, kid, I need a shower._  
  
Prompto splashes more water on his cheeks, counts to ten again, before he leaves the bathroom, Gladio glowering and reaching down to ruffle Prompto's hair ( _hey!_ He squawks in protest) before he vanishes into the bathroom.  
  
He can do this, Prompto tells himself. He can spend an evening around a man he likes and not make an idiot out of himself. He can, because he has to.  
  
  
–  
  
  
It gets easier, during dinner. They're all sitting outside, enjoying the warm evening air as they eat. Ardyn's sat near Prompto again. Now, though, with everyone else around, he takes the time to try to engage everyone in conversation, and Prompto can breathe a little when it isn't all up to him.  
  
He compliments Ignis and Prompto both on the meal, heaping praise upon them until Ignis sighs and offers a quiet 'thank you' and Prompto's almost blushing again as he squirms uncomfortably in his seat.  
  
“It's all Iggy,” he says, deflecting. “I didn't do anything really.”  
  
“Nonsense,” Ardyn says, fixes Prompto with his gaze. “In my experience, assistance in the kitchen deserves just as much praise. There's no need to sell yourself short, dear boy.”  
  
His spine tingles at the 'dear', said so easily, so casually. He misses the look the other three share between them, because his own eyes are simply focused on Ardyn.  
  
“It really was all Iggy, though,” Prompto says quietly, unable to tear his gaze away as Ardyn laughs. It's a full-bodied sound, and Prompto's never heard the likes of it before, it has the hair on the back of his neck shivering to attention in its wake.  
  
Dinner continues in this vein, Ardyn dropping compliments Prompto's way every now and then, woven cleverly between his almost poetic way of speaking sometimes. Prompto feels himself growing warmer and warmer with every piece of praise, every hint of attention aimed at him. Prompto makes a joke, something stupid, and Ardyn mentions _how wonderfully attractive a good sense of humour is_ , and Prompto struggles not to choke on his mouthful of food. Is Ardyn calling _him_ attractive?  
  
There's mention of dessert at one point – Noctis, who always wants something sweet after a meal – and it ends with Ardyn, leaning in towards Prompto, voice low so only he can hear, whispering to him how _no dessert, no matter how exquisite and finely made, could be as sweet as one such as you_ and for a few brief moments Prompto forgets how to breathe.  
  
After dinner's been eaten and the plates and stuff are all cleared away – and there, Prompto had had Ardyn saying how helpful he was, what a coveted asset he must be to his friends – they continue to sit outside for a little longer, talking. There's some conversation going on between Gladio and Noctis, which Noctis keeps trying to pull Prompto into, though he's admittedly a little distracted. Ardyn's pacing in small, lazy circles beside the table, interjecting with his own remarks every now and again, and Prompto's gaze keeps travelling back to him, watches as he moves languidly. Ardyn catches his looks a couple of times, and gives Prompto one of his knowing smiles. Another electric thrill moves through him.  
  
“Hey, Ardyn,” Prompto says, forsaking whatever Gladio had been about to say to him. “You were quoting some nursery rhyme earlier, about the Archaean? Do you have any, uh, any other stories about the Six?” Prompto was never all that great at school, but he's interested now, especially since Ignis, Noctis and Gladio seem to have a better understanding of it all than he does. Ardyn seems the kind of person whose mind is full of weird and interesting knowledge, though. That, and Prompto just wants to hear him speak some more.  
  
Ardyn turns towards Prompto, his eyes alight with something that Prompto can't identify. “Ah, you have an interest in learning more about our _gods_ of Eos?” Prompto misses the hint of bitterness in Ardyn's voice, just nods his head. “Very well. Perhaps, then, I should start at the beginning.”  
  
Ardyn's engaging as he speaks, and Prompto finds himself enraptured, unable to tear his gaze away. Even the other three seem interested now, in listening as Ardyn talks, even though they all must know this story already. It's the way Ardyn tells it, though, as he walks in small, slow circles, arms moving fluidly as he gestures, voice almost weaving a spell around them it seems, as he talks of the Six and their fates. He makes it almost sound real.  
  
Prompto's only half listening, the rest of his entire being intent on taking in everything about Ardyn, as he watches him talk.  
  
“And then,” Ardyn says, sighs almost sadly as he steps close to Prompto. Prompto gulps, heart in his throat, as Ardyn leans over him, his hand outstretched, fingers only a couple scant inches from Prompto's face. He can feel the nearness, if not Ardyn's actual touch, against his skin. Ardyn's eyes almost burn into Prompto's then, hold him still, captured, and it feels like minutes pass between them, like this, instead of the bare seconds it actually is.  
  
“Oh, how Ifrit fell. Scorned, betrayed, killed by those who once loved him, and who he once loved, his body left to crumble atop the Rock of Ravatogh.” Ardyn's fingers curl inwards, teasingly close to touching, before he steps away, breaks the hold he has over Prompto.  
  
Prompto feels himself pull in a deep, steadying breath of air. He feels tense, he feels excited, and he feels cheated. Toyed with. There's a knowing understanding, hidden in the curve of Ardyn's smile, when his eyes next meet Prompto's.  
  
“You sound as if you pity the Infernian,” Ignis speaks up, and this, more than anything, breaks the spell that Prompto almost feels has been laid upon him. He turns his head, sees Ignis, back against the caravan, giving Ardyn a long, curious look. “When it's said to be Ifrit's fault in the first place, his betrayal in creating the Starscourge.”  
  
Ardyn laughs, as if Ignis has made a particularly good joke, but no one else is.  
  
“Yes, yes of course. Though I must admit, I always find it intriguing, to try and consider the other side of a story. Sometimes my imagination runs away from me.”  
  
“But,” Prompto starts, still looking over at Ardyn in earnest fascination. “But, that isn't all real anyway, is it?”  
  
Ardyn shrugs his shoulders, the movement looking bigger than it is with the voluminous layers around his shoulders. “Myths and legends. Stories and suppositions. Think what you will. But,” he says, as he circles closer towards Prompto once again, though nowhere near as close as moments ago, to Prompto's disappointment. “There must be some truth to the tales, or else, why are you on your way to visit one of those gods for yourself?”  
  
It's something Prompto can't quite get his head around, gods and all the stories told about them. It feels beyond him. What isn't beyond him, though, is the look of clear appraisal Ardyn casts over him then, before he begins to talk of lighter, sillier things.  
  
  
–  
  
  
Full dark descended upon them some time ago, and it's been awhile now since everyone else, one by one, decided to call it a night, and retreat to whatever beds they'd claimed for themselves earlier. Prompto's sharing with Noctis, but he knows that when he does decide he's ready for bed, it won't disturb his friend, who can sleep through the end of the world, probably.

It's just himself and Ardyn now, still sitting in those uncomfortable, plastic chairs, shooting the breeze and talking. Prompto still feels awkward, but the longer he spends in Ardyn's company, the less ridiculous he feels. It's as if whatever is inside of him had flared up earlier, a sudden, intense blaze, but now it's died down to a steadier, more consistent fire. This, he thinks, he can deal with.  
  
Though, the tension is still there, thick and heavy and teasing, as it sits in the space between them. Prompto can feel it as almost something he can touch and pick up, and that, he knows, has been steadily building throughout the course of the entire day. Ardyn's been adding to that tension with every compliment, with every one of his weirdly flirtatious comments, with every look he's been sending Prompto. The almost-touch earlier though was what sent the tension into overdrive for Prompto, dialled it up to eleven, and for some time it's all he's been able to think about and focus on.  
  
Ardyn's been talking for the past ten minutes, telling Prompto some story involving ducks and lawns and royal decrees, and usually it would make Prompto laugh because it's purposely ridiculous, but he can't do anything but just listen to Ardyn's voice, and feel as the tension rises. Does Ardyn feel it too, Prompto wonders? He doesn't let on like he does. It's Prompto who's nervous and distracted, squirming in his chair every now and then. He's never dealt well with this part of crushes and attraction and flirting. Tension drives him insane, gives him too much time to think about things, to doubt himself and mess things up.  
  
“You look quite driven to distraction, dear Prompto.” Ardyn's words change, and Prompto's focus comes back. Comes back to Ardyn leaning in, just a touch, one arm dangling tantalisingly close to Prompto's own, across the arm of the chair. “What happens to be on that wonderful mind of yours?”  
  
Prompto blinks, a mixture of pleased and confused by the strange compliment. Ardyn really is kinda weird, but Prompto keeps finding it funny, and a bit endearing, more than anything else. He can't help but smile a little. “Sorry, didn't mean to just drift away there. You were saying something about – wait, did one of the king's really make it illegal for a commoner's pet to, er...how did you put it again? Have carnal knowledge of a royal animal?”  
  
“Ah, so you were listening a little, then.” Ardyn's smile was small, but there.  
  
“No way is that true,” Prompto insists, laughing at the thought of it.  
  
Ardyn spreads his hands, shrugs, all the while that smile of his lingering. “Who knows. Truth be told, I wouldn't be all that surprised if it was. There's a lot more to the Lucis Caelum's than we might know.”  
  
“I gotta ask Noct if he's heard that one before.” He's still laughing, because it's just such a ridiculous thing to pass a law for. Ardyn smiles over at Prompto, almost indulgently.  
  
Then, he leans closer still, fills that gap, and the tension, with his own body. He reaches towards Prompto, one finger raised just shy of Prompto's laughing lips. “Hush, now. You don't want to wake your friends, do you? They need their rest, after all.”  
  
The breath leaves Prompto's body in one long _whoosh_ of air. His heartbeat is pounding in his ears. Ardyn's finger is pressed, so lightly, against his lips. Prompto's skin prickles all over at that innocent touch. Ardyn's looking down at him, a hint of a smile on his face, his eyes shining. Prompto doesn't want to move, doesn't want to speak, for fear he'll lose even this small connection between them.  
  
“Isn't it past your bedtime, too?”  
  
Prompto does regret the loss of that touch, when he opens his mouth to speak, but his slightly ruffled feathers won't let him keep quiet.  
  
“I'm not a child.” His voice is quiet now, in the hush of the late hour, and the world feels like it's narrowed down to just the two of them, as close as they can be, sitting in their shitty plastic chairs.  
  
Ardyn's lips turn up. As do the corners of his eyes, just a little. He's looking almost intently at Prompto, and Prompto finds himself unable to tear his own gaze away.  
  
“I can assure you, of that, I'm aware.”  
  
His cultured voice trickles down Prompto's back like honey, thick and smooth and it makes him shiver. Everything he says is for Prompto's ears only, now.  
  
Prompto's heart feels too loud, too erratic and too big, as it beats rapidly inside his chest. Breathing seems pointless. Ardyn can't stop looking at him – Prompto almost wonders 'why' to himself, why _him_ , because he's nothing, a nobody, and certainly not worth a man like Ardyn's attention, but even the self-doubt that usually plagues him is forced to take a back seat for once. Because the thought has settled inside Prompto's mind, as Ardyn leans over, as Prompto shifts forward what little he can, that Ardyn's going to kiss him now.  
  
His eyes fall to Ardyn's lips, to his face, and Prompto wonders if the stubble he can see shadowing Ardyn's jaw might scratch. He's never kissed a man with facial hair before, and suddenly Prompto finds himself feeling very young.  
  
The tension is almost unbearable, a heavy weight pressing down upon Prompto's already struggling chest, makes it harder to breathe than it already is. It's a snap decision, and maybe Prompto's going to regret it, but he decides he can't wait in this heavy weight of the tension that's built between them, can't suffocate as he hopes that Ardyn will lean in and close the distance.  
  
_Fuck it,_ is all that passes through his mind, before he leans in. His hands reach out, fingers curling loosely in the weird scarf-coat-hood- _thing_ that Ardyn wears around his neck, as Prompto pulls their faces flush together. There's a moment, briefly, where he sees Ardyn's eyes widen in surprise, though it doesn't register with Prompto because in his own mind he's screaming, shrieking at himself as he kisses Ardyn.  
  
And then, as their mouths meet, silence. No more thoughts, all Prompto knows is the feel of Ardyn's lips against his own, as they kiss. It's only a moment later, and Ardyn responds in kind, shuffles closer and kisses Prompto in return. Prompto sighs, let's his fingers loosen their grip, but stay firmly wrapped in the fabric of Ardyn's too-many layers, and let's himself settle into the kiss, against Ardyn.  
  
It's tentative, but sweet, as their lips move together, Prompto pouring his newly found crush earnestly into this moment. He hears himself sigh against Ardyn's mouth, as fingers move to cup Prompto's cheek. His skin feels hot, beneath that simple touch.  
  
He discovers that yes, the brush of stubble against his face is a little rough, almost tickles a bit, even, but Prompto doesn't mind. He falls into that sensation, into the slow motion of their lips moving together, into the sense and the scent of Ardyn, so thick around him.  
  
It feels all too soon when they pull apart, Prompto gasping softly for breath, and Ardyn. Ardyn looks back at him, seemingly stunned. As if, unusually, he's run out of words and has nothing to say.  
  
Thoughts converge on Prompto all at once, now he's mind isn't preoccupied with the sensation of Ardyn's lips against his own, and his cheeks flame with sudden embarrassment. He must have misread the situation entirely, and shit, shit, he's _such_ an idiot, he thinks, twisting his head away, Ardyn's hand falling from his face.  
  
“I, uh...I-I'm sorry,” Prompto murmurs, unable to look at Ardyn now. He'd been so certain, this time, too. “I shouldn't have..I...” Words fail him.  
  
“It's quite alright,” Ardyn says, though he sounds about as dazed as he looks in this moment. His hand finds Prompto's face again, fingers on his chin now, as he gently turns Prompto's face back towards his own. “Forgive me. I was merely...astonished.” Prompto looks at him, clearly confused. “No one has kissed me like that in...in quite a long time. You took me by surprise, is all.”  
  
“It...it, uh, wasn't bad, then?” Prompto asks, hopefully.  
  
He hears Ardyn laugh, it's more a breath of air than anything else, but it sounds genuine to Prompto.  
  
“I can assure you, sweet Prompto, that was the kiss of the century.”

Prompto hears himself laughing quietly, his cheeks burning now with an entirely different heat, the endearment thrilling through his veins like electricity.  
  
“You're not _that_ old,” he says again, almost as if it's become this little joke between them now.  
  
“Oh dear boy, you have no idea.”  
  
It's with great regret, when Prompto finally admits to needing sleep, and he and Ardyn bid each other goodnight, just outside the caravan door. It's a brief, sweet kiss goodnight, because Prompto can't help himself, and he knows he won't get another chance any time soon, so he'll take what he can get and store it all in his memories, to savour later. Ardyn looks a little as if he doesn't quite know what to do with himself, when Prompto kisses him again. It's kinda cute, he thinks. Not a word he might have ever used for Ardyn but, well, Prompto doesn't have a thesaurus in his head like Ignis, he can't think of a better word for it. Cute will have to do.  
  
Ardyn would probably hate that idea.  
  
As he curls up in bed, Noctis sleeping soundly beside him, Prompto smiles to himself, his heart full to bursting.


End file.
